


you'll grow up so take a chance

by UnAmusings



Series: Heaven Blessed [3]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Family Fluff, Free Folk Culture and Customs, M/M, Married Couple, Married Life, Mpreg, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-05-20 13:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19378045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnAmusings/pseuds/UnAmusings
Summary: The calm came to a screeching halt, when Munda's husband said, "I guess congratulations are in order."Jon peeked an eye open,"What?"





	you'll grow up so take a chance

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the previous parts for more fluff!
> 
> I'm beginning to realize that I know a decent amount of songs about the trials of parenthood. 
> 
> Title from, " _Kooks_ ," by David Bowie.
> 
> Unbeta'd.

Everyone is bustling about the roaring fire, munching away at their food. Ancient celebrations have been resurrected, for summer has truly come to the north for the first time in millennia. Free folk tradition to welcome the new growing season has sent the village into a frenzy of cooking and barely contained excitement.

An _equinox_ , the people called it. Jon hadn't understood what the difference was between this day and all the others until the night sky had fallen around them. A blue so rich, Jon could only akin it to the depths of the sea, had dropped the perfect canvas for the crystal clear, twinkling stars.

For hours, the free folk danced to songs that had almost been lost to time, telling tales older than the dawn of the first men. Jon sat enraptured with Edur in his lap, watching the jumping people cast long shadows into the crowd. Tormund had hummed the whole time, his arm thrown across Jon's shoulders to play with the ringlets of their son's hair.

When the feast had begun, families huddled together to enjoy each other's company in a bid for full bellies. Tormund's eldest daughter came with her husband, carrying armfuls of blankets to lay on the grass, while Torwynd and her wife balanced jugs of fermented goat's milk. Then, the true feast began.

Jon smiled, setting down his own plate to wipe at the disaster of Edur's cheeks. Somehow, the four year-old had managed to get pieces of lamb on the bridge of his nose, and was trying his damnedest to grow a full potato mustache, making a mess of the blanket along with himself.

Tormund laughed to his heart's content, not aiding at all by making Edur giggle so wildly. It wasn't until Munda stepped in with a swat to her father's knee that they were able to get the last of the grease from his face. The attempt was probably futile given the way his son returned to shoving mash into his mouth.

Settling back into his husband's arms, Jon continued to strip away at the bone of lamb, "I've never seen anything like this."

"Like what? A feast?" Tormund asked his breath brushing Jon's ear.

"More than a feast," Jon mumbled, feeling his cheeks heating. "This is a celebration, to life."

Tormund hummed, nuzzling a cheek to Jon's own before dropping a kiss right below his eye, "Nothing like this in the south, is there?"

Jon nodded, returning to gnaw at the last bit of meat at the joint and completely foregoing the putrid smell of the goat's ale. A weight settled in his stomach. Life would have never compared in Winterfell, even if he hadn't been raised a bastard. The Seven Kingdoms for all its giant castles on high rocks or spanning plains, would never truly live as freely as those beyond the wall. People were jeering and drinking to their heart's desire, dancing and making fools of themselves as if life were one grand charade.

He could not even begin to imagine what life would have been like for Edur. Restraining etiquette for stupid propriety, Jon can't recall how he had gone through so many years of torture. Perhaps because he had never known the bite of the north wind, or fought for himself until he had been captured by the people he now called his own.

"We are never going south again," Jon huffs.

Once again, Tormund chuckles from deep in his chest, "Couldn't agree more, little crow."

Due to the crystalline skies, the moon shines bright on them. Jon can see every family huddled together, honoring the season with laughter and unbridled joy. His own filled with his son and step daughters, all at peace as they tore into their food. It seemed like the wars of his youth, no matter how bloody and brutal, could not kill the spirit of the north.

Munda and Torwynd were arguing over what they should plant in the months to come. Tormund kept drinking his jug of ale, watching his daughters fuss like children. In their arms, Edur babbled about playing with Ghost and feeding him potatoes. The hum of festivities had Jon's eyes drooping, resting his head on Tormund's shoulder.

The calm came to a screeching halt, when Munda's husband said, "I guess congratulations are in order."

Jon peeked an eye open, "What?"

Torwynd piped in, grinning like a mad woman, "Yeah, were we supposed to guess?"

"What's that mean?" Tormund huffed, looking at them all like a bunch of fools.

Munda rolled her eyes, "We weren't goin' to say anything, but the last time Jon cleaned bone like that was when Ed was on the way."

Her sister laughs, fingering her red hair from her shoulder as she finishes with, "You haven't touched a drop of the milk, been wiggling your nose everytime ye'get a whiff."

Suddenly completely aware of every fiber in his body, Jon sits upright, a hand flying to his belly. Even though he knew it was all in his head, Jon swore he felt the pressure residing underneath his skin. Memories of the weight of life on his hips, the joyful thrill of seeing little feet kick despite every ache, pain, and stress. Jon flushed looking at his plate full of bare lamb bones, as everything clicked into place.

"Oh, shit, they didn't even know," finally Torwynd's wife laughs out.

Steady patterns are being traced into his lower back, and Jon couldn't be more grateful for his husband's casual affection. His heart beat thumps in a pitter patter in his ears, as arrhythmic as his breathing. Jon could not quench the hope that maybe they were right.

The smile creeps onto his face before he is even aware of the twitch of his lips, he turns to Tormund trying to conceal it. Even with the streaks of white that have begun to pepper Tormund's temples, Jon takes in those soft blue eyes and swells with love. Sparks of excitement flicker between them, and he knows: though this one is just as unplanned as Edur had been, they'll be just as loved.

Jon scooped up their messy child in his arms, the little one's legs splaying in the air and Jon smooshed his chubby cheeks with kisses. Everyone seems to be waiting for them to say something, but like most things, Jon wanted to cherish the moment before it slipped away.

"Papa, no more!" Edur squealed as Tormund began tickling his sides. The high pitched yelps were heard over the songs being sung, to join the melody of happiness.

Soon enough, the boy is being passed amongst his family, receiving kisses and tickles alike. His sisters look delighted to pamper their brother with all the love in the world, mussing his hair and hugging him close.

Tormund pulls Jon back against his chest, wrapping his long limbs around Jon's body to envelop him in warmth. Somehow, one hand came to rest below his navel. Jon arched his back slightly to press his tummy more firmly into his husband's hand.

Jon glanced between the faces of each member of this family he had found. Some were scarred, others had hair wilder than fire itself, but each with hearts of gold. They had welcomed him all those years ago, and now, it seemed even the heavens were twinkling starlight for them.

"Nothing we can't handle," Jon murmurs.

Ed is passed back to them, exhausted by the way Jon can see his eyes have a glowing sheen to them. Their son rests his head on Jon's thigh while Munda and Torwynd start talking about hunting. Everything returning to the way it was, even though the future held no such promise if luck held.

Tormund squeezes him tight, kissing the top of Jon's head, before starting a slow pattern on his belly. Jon couldn't have wished for a better life than this.

**Author's Note:**

> I always imagined Tormund had his daughters in the wild era of his early twenties, so he's in his very early forties here. Jon is like the twinkly young stepmom that both of the girls respect and love
> 
> Plus Lil' Ed is cute af thanks to those dark Stark genetics
> 
> 'Til next time!


End file.
